


A Deadly Game

by DiamondScribe (DiamondSuits)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 04:40:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3236561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondSuits/pseuds/DiamondScribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chilton confronts Hannibal when he's finally captured; very slight season 2 spoilers. Minimal confrontation, maximum Chilton based character study.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Deadly Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charll/gifts).



It had taken so long to get to this day. Decades to rouse the suspicion, years to catch the criminal, and in mere months to finish the trial in one neat little bow. Not that anything ended up so neatly to everyone involved. Hannibal Lecter left behind so many imprints on everyone he had touched, scars both emotional and physical. 

Frederick Chilton bore both. The scar on his cheek branded him as a victim, shouting to the world that Hannibal did it, it was Hannibal's handiwork. Even so, the former surgeon and psychiatrist kept his head held high as he stepped down the hall of an asylum he no longer ran, his cane tapping at the polished floor. 

He had no real reason to be there. This wasn't his business, and he knew it. The entire affair (that he wryly and rather dramatically referred to as the 'Cannibal's Bluff') had just been some sort of elaborate game between Will and Hannibal. Everyone involved were just chess pieces, all disposable parts that were shattered or cracked in some way by the deadly game. While before Chilton would've insisted that he had played a major role, by now he had to admit that his place in the whole thing had been rather minor; bishop, maybe. Rook worthy at best. 

He stepped before Lecter's new cell, finding his eyes drawn to the cannibal's; blank, devoid of all emotion in a way that was oddly shark like in nature. They were strangely hypnotic, and though Chilton felt the overwhelming urge to look away (prey instinct, probably), he couldn't tear himself away from Hannibal's gaze as the other slowly rose from his bed. 

Now that he was here, Chilton didn't know what to say. The accusations, the gloating, the triumph of his win all seemed rather flimsy now. His old self would've definitely settled on the gloating, soaked up a victory that was barely his own to taunt the cannibal. 

But what was the point? He wasn't the same man he was when Hannibal found him. Before he was spineless, weak willed, desperate for a chance at acknowledgement, a pat on the back. A pathetic man who grasped at his dull wit as if it were some mighty sword. 

Things were different. Being in the hospital for unexpected, life changing injuries had a way of making anyone look at their life; Chilton was just too stubborn to listen to the first. He doubt he would've listened to the second had it not been for Will Graham.

That oddity, chaos loosely tied together in some semblance of a man was never someone Chilton could understand. He was just as ruthless as Hannibal, yet had the reluctant compassion to help out his tormenter for the long months of his sentencing. A shower and a flimsy attempt to get others to understand his nature wasn't much, but to a man that so often isolated himself from others (be it intentional or otherwise), it meant everything. 

The chaos of Will Graham and the merciless control of Hannibal Lecter had shaped his once pathetic life, be it for better or for worst. It was because of them that he could even stand to look Hannibal in the eye as the murderer stepped to the bars of his cage. There was a brief flicker of emotion in those blank eyes, barely there long enough for Chilton to recognize it. Interest. Which was probably the best and worst thing to happen to Frederick. 

There was no doubt between those that knew the cannibal best when it came to his incarceration. Hannibal was painfully clever; he'd play along, but sooner or later, he'd be free, and the cycle would repeat itself. Before he had feared that Hannibal would kill him if he got loose, that he'd be a target in some horrible revenge scheme. But, like a child with his favorite toy, Hannibal kept the objects of his interest alive until they ceased to bring him any amusement. Then again, he'd found Will interesting, and he'd stuffed an ear down his throat, killed his two potential children, took his mind apart, and stabbed him in the gut. So maybe it wasn't such a good thing. 

Now, the new, vaguely lost Frederick Chilton was left staring at the cannibal. There was no way he'd be able to sort out all of his mixed feelings regarding the magnetic, terrifying man, much less think of what to say to him. So in the end, all Frederick managed was a nod; whether it was an acknowledgment of the man that had forever changed him or a way to clear his thoughts, even he wasn't sure. Finally breaking Hannibal's gaze, he turned away, his back straight, his eyes clear, and his scars a sign to the world that he had been made into a survivor.

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to lambylimbs, who posts some rad Chilton oriented stuff. Check em out!


End file.
